


Don't Fear the Reaper

by fannishliss



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Women of Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-28 18:02:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fannishliss/pseuds/fannishliss





	Don't Fear the Reaper

Author: [](http://fannishliss.livejournal.com/profile)[**fannishliss**](http://fannishliss.livejournal.com/)   
Series: 42 Days of Metallicar and the Women of Supernatural (#16)  
Rating: PG  
Pairing/Characters: no pairing.  Layla Rourke is from "Faith" (1.12)  
Word count: ~500.  
Spoilers: s1  
Notes/Disclaimers: This series of stories, ficlets and drabbles featuring the Impala and the Women of Supernatural are being posted as part of the 42 Days of Metallicar, hosted by [](http://alias-chick.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://alias-chick.livejournal.com/)**alias_chick**  . This is a work of transformative fiction and is not for profit.  You might enjoy listening to "Don't Fear the Reaper" while reading this, as I had it on repeat while writing it.   :)

  
All our times will come, Layla knows, just hers is coming a little early for her liking.

Her mother’s face is lined with bitterness.  How they used to laugh together!  The fun they would have, just sitting at the kitchen table, drinking iced tea, or running cherries through the old hand cranked seeder, thick cherry pie filling simmering on the stove, ready to be put in pint jars for next Christmas.

Her mother is ready now to scorn and lash out, but Layla can’t blame her.  She’s made her peace, but it goes against nature when the child dies but the parent lives on.

Roy LeGrange has put away his tent, back to his old congregation, so Layla and her mom have gone home. Layla cried for Sue-Ann Le Grange. You might think it wouldn’t be possible, that Layla would have to be a saint. But, no, no, no. Not at all, not at all. Sue-Ann and Layla’s mother were two sides of one coin.  How could Layla be sure that her mother wouldn’t have tried anything,  black magic, necromancy, to keep the reaper away from her daughter, just as Sue-Ann was willing to betray her beliefs, herself, her own husband, just to save him.   In the face of death, love can turn to fear, to desperation, to horror.

Layla is ready for peace, not bitterness.  The pain in her head is excruciating when it comes – so every second pain-free is like the rain-washed sky, full of brightness and the glory of the rainbow. Every night-time is glorious when the coolness comes in through the open, screened window, crickets singing the approach of spring.

There comes a night when Layla hears an unexpected but familiar old car pulling heavily  into the driveway. Headlights shine through the window, flick off.   Layla rises easily from bed and finds herself answering a quiet knock at the back door.

There stands Dean Winchester, pale in the moonlight, his soft smile glowing, his beauty almost radiant. He extends his hand to her and she takes it.  He leads her to his beautiful old car, gleaming black and silver, and opens the passenger door.  She gets in and he gently closes it behind her.

They go driving on the highway leading westward out of town.  The headlights beam brightly through the darkness, and the moon shines down through scattered clouds.

Layla’s thin nightdress is perfect for the evening.  She smiles as Dean guides his car smoothly along the bends and dips of the road. The gliding speed is just like flying.

Ahead, storm clouds have gathered. A light rain begins to fall.  The headlights reflect from the silvery droplets, each bead of water a jewel, until Layla is dazzled.

She turns her head in joy, not wanting Dean to miss the beauty arrayed before them.  He smiles back, a study in light and darkness.  Ahead is nothing but light.  No, nothing but light.

As it all dissolves around her, she isn’t afraid.  The reaper came in a welcome guise – and what a lovely ride it was.  



End file.
